Scalpels and Roller Coasters
by Dawnfire11
Summary: In which Sherlock gets a case at an amusement park in America and has to ride a roller coaster. Cute bonding between John and Sherlock. No slash. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first fanfiction in the Sherlock fandom and I am very excited to get started. **

**This fanfiction is for my friend's birthday. Happy birthday Hatakefire! Live long and prosper. **

**Warning: This is mainly a humor fic that shows the bonding between our favorite consulting detective and his blogger. The chapters will be relatively short. I estimate there to be three to four chapters, so if short and sweet isn't your thing, this fic isn't for you. **

**Also, I know nothing about airplanes or flights as I have never been on an airplane before, so if I get something wrong I apologize.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

**Thank you for reading and if you have any suggestions, just leave me a review.**

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Chapter 1

John couldn't believe this was actually happening, that Sherlock was actually about to do this. Two days ago, if someone had told him Sherlock would do this, he would have thought them crazy. But it was actually happening. It had all started the morning Mycroft came to visit.

_Two days earlier... _

Sherlock glanced from the plane ticket in his hand back to his brother. "What is this, Mycroft?" he snarled.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, swinging his umbrella unconsciously in one hand. "Surely you can make a deduction, Sherlock."

John stepped beside his flatmate, looking down at the ticket. "We weren't planning on a vacation anytime soon, are we Sherlock?" John asked. "Florida? Why would we want to go to America?"

"Case," Sherlock said bluntly, his fist closing around the small piece of paper in his hands. "Get on with it."

Mycroft nodded, pulling out another ticket and handing it to John. "Children have been disappearing in a Floridian theme park," he said.

"Boring!" Sherlock snapped immediately, rolling over on the couch to face the wall.

"I have been contacted by a colleague requesting your assistance and I can not refuse," he snapped. There was no response from the man on the couch, making Mycroft sigh with exasperation. "I'll buy you a new set of microscopes."

Sherlock rolled back over, a ghost of a smile on his face and one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"The German kind with the plan objective lenses?"

"Yes."

"What about a new set of scalpels?"

"Fine!" Mycroft snapped, turning to John. "The flight leaves at noon tomorrow... My colleague will meet you at the Floridian airport once you arrive in America. Good day." And with that, he left the room.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Twenty three years old. Unhappily married. Two children, ages three and seven... Going to visit her great aunt who lives in France..."

"Sherlock!" John snapped, dragging his suitcase behind him. "Please stop deducing everyone who passes by!"

"But I am bored!" he snapped. "What else am I supposed to do, John?"

John chose not to answer, instead focusing his attention on dragging all of the luggage that Sherlock had refused to carry.

After they checked their bags in, they reached security. John put their carry-ons onto the conveyor belt and then began to take off his shoes, gesturing at Sherlock to do the same. Sherlock glared at John vehemently. "I am not taking off my shoes, John!"

"Just do it, Sherlock," John growled, placing his shoes and coat by their bags. "And the coat will have to go to."

Sherlock tugged his coat off with a snarl and then pulled off his shoes. They stepped through the metal detector without incident, John letting out a sigh of relief. He stood by the end of the conveyor belt as the bags passed under the detector, an alarm going off.

"Sir, we are going to have to check your bags. Please step to the side," the security officer said, his face like stone. John nodded, pulling Sherlock by the hand to the side.

The guard pulled the bags off the conveyor belt, beginning to rummage through them haphazardly. John held his breath as the guard paused, pulling out a case and opening it. Six shining scalpels lay in the case, sharp and threatening. The guard turned to look at John, his stone face threatening.

"Sir, please put your hands behind your back," the guard said, pulling out handcuffs with a small flourish. John glared at the consulting detective as he felt the cold metal clamp around his wrists.

"Sherlock! Why the hell did you bring your knives?" John snapped.

"Because I need them!" Sherlock snapped back.

"Oh my god, Sherlock. It's a bloody _airport_!"

"So does that mean I shouldn't have brought the gun too?"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A couple hours and a phone call to Mycroft later, Sherlock and John were sitting in the waiting area. "I can't believe this," John muttered.

"Yes, I really thought they would at least let me bring my scalpels with me this time!" Sherlock commented, his tone sounding genuinely confused.

John looked incredulously at his flat mate. "You are so lucky we had Mycroft to get us out of this," he commented, before turning back to his laptop.

"I wouldn't call that luck," Sherlock muttered and then stood as their group moved to board the plane. John followed, a feeling of dread washing over him. This was going to be a very interesting plane ride.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for everyone who favorited and followed. Special thanks to my two reviewers, Hatakefire and Harpfire. You guys rock! I am really glad that you enjoyed that chapter. **

**Anyways, I hope you like this chapter. Please leave me a review and tell me what you think. Leave any ideas or suggestions as well. I want to know what you guys want to see! XD**

**Thank you so much for reading!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

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Chapter 2

John sat directly in front of Sherlock, placing his bag on the floor in front of him, glancing back at the consulting detective.

"You ready?" he asked. Sherlock nodded once, sitting in his seat. It seemed like forever before the plane took off, leaving London behind them.

John pulled out his book, relaxing in his seat as he felt a jolt in his stomach at the movement of the plane. He had just finished his first page when he heard Sherlock muttering behind him. "23 years old, living in an apartment in Orlando. Was in London on a business trip but met a girl and decided to stay three days longer than planned. Is currently attending..."

"Sherlock," John growled softly.

The man stopped, glaring at John. "What else am I supposed to do?" he snapped, and John groaned inwardly. His flat mate may be a genius, but sometimes he could be childish.

"Read a book, listen to music, sleep... I don't know, anything but that!" he replied, looking back down at his book.

It was about ten minutes later when he felt a thud on the back of his chair. He ignored it, trying to loose himself in his novel. He felt his chair jerk again and he twisted around in his seat. "Stop it, Sherlock."

"BORED!"

"Jesus, it hasn't even been a half hour yet!"

Sherlock just kicked his chair in response. It was at that moment that the intercom came on. "You are now free to move about the cabin."

John didn't hesitate, grabbing his bag and moving to the empty seat behind Sherlock. He smirked triumphantly, opening his book again. His moment of joy turned into annoyance as Sherlock slowly leaned his chair back.

John slammed his book shut and pulled out his laptop. "Okay, Sherlock. Come sit next to me and we can play a game of Cluedo."

Sherlock glanced back at John. "You brought Cluedo?" he asked.

John shook his head and pointed at his laptop. "I have the computer version."

Sherlock stood up quickly, moving to the empty seat by John. John wondered what he had gotten himself into.

After an infinite number of games of Cluedo, they had finally arrived in America, the plane descending slowly into the Orlando airport. They landed and people slowly began to exit. Sherlock hastily stood, gathering his things and exiting the plane, John close behind him.

"Finally!" he commented as they followed the crowd into the airport. The building was relatively full, people bustling about like ants. Sherlock's pale eyes scanned the crowd, searching for anyone who might be Mycroft's colleague. John just followed his flatmate, hoping that they could get this over with soon so he could go back to London.

Sherlock's eyes came to a rest on a tall figure who was standing alone, straight backed. He strode over to the person and John followed behind, not believing what his brain was telling him.

Sherlock had stopped in front of a _woman_. Mycroft's colleague was a _woman_. He didn't know what he had expected... Probably some big burly man or the president or something. Not a woman!

She was tall, her face thin and her hair a honey blonde. Sherlock took in everything, his eyes scanning from the bottoms of her pointed, black high heels, to the black dress, and then resting on her cold, blue eyes.

"Hello, Sherlock," the woman said. "My name is Myra. I am a good friend of Mycroft's. He has told me much about you."

Sherlock stared at the woman for a few more seconds before answering. "Mycroft doesn't have any friends. Especially not 38 year old women who work for the American Police Force. Who hired you to spy on him? Was it the FBI? Was it someone working for Moriarty?"

"What are you talking about? I am not spying on anyone!" she snapped, her nostrils flaring and her eyes glinting. Sherlock rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, pressing a few keys and then holding it up to his ear.

"Hello dear brother... Yes it's Sherlock. We made it to America and I just met your girlfriend... She isn't your girlfriend? Well she is quite obviously attracted to you, considering the... What do you mean? Of course she is! It is obvious by... Fine!" Sherlock glanced at John and rolled his eyes mockingly.

"Alright. Bye," Sherlock said, pressing the end call button and shoving his phone back in his pocket.

"Mycroft insists that I am to listen to your every word or I wont get my microscope and scalpels," Sherlock told the woman, his voice dark.

Myra laughed, her voice sounding scratchy and hoarse. Sherlock immediately opened his mouth to comment on her smoking habits, but John interrupted him quickly.

"Nice to meet you," John said. "I'm..."

"John Watson," Myra interrupted. "I have read your blog and I am very excited to see if Sherlock is as good as you say he is."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Can we get on with this?" he commented.

The woman nodded, and then gestured at them to follow her, leading them to the parking lot where a dirty, black van waited for them.

They climbed into the car, Sherlock wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. There was an awkward silence as the driver started driving.

"So, what amusement park are you taking us to?" John asked.

Sherlock scoffed. "Surely, John."

Myra raised a carefully shaped eyebrow at the consulting detective before answering. "Disney World."

John could only laugh at this. He couldn't believe it. The great detective, Sherlock Holmes, was going to Disney World.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you for everyone who favorited and followed again! I love opening my email and seeing all of the messages. It made my day extremely happy.**

**Sorry if this story seems a bit rushed. Its just a little fun story so it wont be long or detailed. Although, it is turning out to be way longer than I thought it would be.**

**So I have never actually been to Disney World, so this is proving harder to write than I thought. I apologize if I get any details wrong.**

**NOTE: There is a part where I mention the time being 6:09. I calculated a nine hour flight leaving at around 1 (due to the slight delay because Sherlock brought the knives) to put them in America at 10 pm London time. That would make it around 5 in Florida.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock and I also don't own Disney World.**

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Chapter 3

They arrived at the park, Myra leading them through the crowds. Sherlock followed her, asking the occasional question. He paused at a map of the park and gestured at Myra to stop.

"Show me the places where the children have been abducted," he ordered, eyes scanning the large map.

"There have been twenty missing children over the course of two weeks, but none of the parents saw them being taken against their will. We do not know the exact location of the abduction, but all of the reports for a missing child have been at this tourist desk," Myra reported mechanically.

Sherlock nodded, looking at the map. "So they were all taken from... Magic Kingdom..."

If it had been under different circumstances, John would have laughed at Sherlock for saying this. But he kept silent, watching the exchange and feeling useless.

"Lead the way," Sherlock told Myra. They walked for some time, Myra leading them to a line of people. The crowd parted as she showed them her police badge. They pushed to the front of the line and boarded the ferry. Sherlock stepped aboard, eyes scanning the surroundings. His train of thoughts was interrupted by a voice.

"Sherlock?" John asked. "Have you ever been to an amusement park before?"

To John's surprise, Sherlock nodded. "Once when I was very young," he responded. Myra glanced over at them, a small smile on her face.

"Did Mycroft go along with you?" she asked.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I don't see how me going to an amusement park has anything to do with the case. Now if only this stupid ferry would go faster!"

It was John's turn to roll his eyes. "Come on Sherlock. Enjoy the scenery. This will be the only time for you to get into Disney World for free!" He grinned at the consulting detective before turning over the side of the boat.

The sun was setting over the water, casting a red glow over the ferry. John yawned, feeling sore and stiff. He glanced at his watch, which read 6:09 pm.

"God, I am tired," he commented. Sherlock nodded, only half listening.

Myra smiled at him. "Your luggage is already being taken to your hotel. After you look around I will take you to it. You must be feeling very tired."

"Thank you," John said, looking at Sherlock to see if his flatmate was experiencing the same jet lag that he was.

Sherlock looked almost the same as he usually did, but John's trained eyes could make out the slight slump to the man's shoulders. He grinned to himself, satisfied at knowing that even the stoic consulting detective could be defeated by a long plane ride.

The boat slowly floated into the dock, and people began to disembark. Sherlock and John followed Myra through the park and to the tourist desk that she had pointed out on the map. Sherlock paused occasionally, taking in every detail that he could.

"Here we are," Myra said, stopping at the tourist desk. Sherlock immediately began walking around the area. He kneeled on the ground for a moment, pressing his hands to the floor. Myra and John stood off to the side, watching him silently. Sherlock stood again, making his way to them again. "How old were the children?" he asked Myra.

"They were all around the age of ten..." Myra stated, and Sherlock nodded once.

He turned to John. "We are going to have to walk around the park a bit. All of them were taken from the same area, possibly even from the same ride."

"Okay, Sherlock. Lead the way," John said, wondering what Sherlock had discovered by just kneeling on the floor for a few minutes.

They walked until the sky began to darken, the lights of the park coming on around them, sparkling in the darkness and giving the scene a magical glow. Sherlock paused for a moment, eyes traveling up a large, white building which stood nearby.

"Here," he said, stepping up to the door.

John stopped him. "How do you know that?"

Sherlock shook his head. "I don't know for certain, but I need to test my theory. The kidnapper would be looking for a ride that children could handle but which is dark enough for the parents not to notice when their child went missing.

John looked at the sign above the door. "Space Mountain," he read.

Sherlock stepped inside, immediately noting his surroundings. He followed the crowd up to the line, watching as people boarded the ride. He walked in a small circle and then crouched down.

"Is this the ride?" John asked his flatmate.

Sherlock nodded. "Most likely." He straightened up and then turned to Myra.

"I'll come back tomorrow," he commented before turning and walking out of the building. John followed close behind.

"You okay Sherlock?" John asked, noticing the detectives slumped shoulders and unsteady gait.

The detective paused for a moment and then snapped, "Fine."

But John knew better. He was an experienced doctor and he could easily recognize the symptoms of jet lag. He decided not to say anything, instead just walking back with them to the ferry.

The rest of the way back to the hotel was a bit of a blur. His mind felt heavy and fuzzy with jet lag. When they finally reached the hotel, John was practically asleep on his feet. Without saying anything to Sherlock, he fell on his bed, eyes closing.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: You guys are amazing! Thank you to the reviewers Harpfire, Rufioh Nitram, and NightFuryofGallifrey. I loved your feedback! Thanks for taking the time out of your day to review. **

**Anyways, enough of me gushing about how much I love reviews. Here is another chapter! XD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock and I also don't own Disney World.**

Chapter 4

John blinked as golden sunlight splashed over his face. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking around the hotel room. Sherlock was already awake, pacing back and forth anxiously.

"Sherlock?" John asked tiredly. "What time is it?"

"9:30," Sherlock responded without stopping.

"Sherlock," John muttered. "Please stop. I'm sure Myra will be here soon."

As if on cue, there was a pounding on the door. Sherlock rushed forward and undid the lock, swinging the door open with a flourish.

Myra stood there, her blonde hair in a tight bun on top of her head. John stood hurriedly, rushing to grab a clean set of clothes.

"One second, Sherlock," he said, running to the bathroom and leaving the consulting detective alone with the woman. There was a few moments of tense silence before John rushed back into the room, throwing the dirty clothes back in his suitcase.

"Ready?" Myra asked with amusement. He nodded and they all left the room, John shutting the door tightly behind them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

An hour later, Sherlock was standing in front of Space Mountain, his eyes scanning the surrounding area.

"I'm going to go back to the tourist center and see if they have any more information," Myra said, striding away with her head held high. John watched her go, Sherlock interrupting his thoughts.

"Lets go," Sherlock told John, stepping inside the building, his coattail swishing about his feet.

"How are you going to know for sure if this is the coaster they got kidnapped from?" John asked.

Sherlock looked at him seriously. "I am going to ride the roller coaster of course."

John stared at his flatmate for a full minute before he registered what the man had said to him. "You?" he said. "Sherlock Holmes... Ride a roller coaster?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I don't understand why this is big news to you," he scoffed, walking towards the line to the coaster.

"Sorry," John said, but his face was still bright with laughter.

Sherlock's stomach did a summersault as he climbed into the roller coaster car. He pulled down the safety harness, his hands clammy and his head pounding. John climbed into the seat next to him, sending a shot of relief through Sherlock's veins. He really would be lost without his blogger, he realized.

They started to move forwards, Sherlock's back pressing against the seat as the coaster rose. He resisted the urge to close his eyes, the car coming to the top of the hill, balancing for a second before the weight of the first car pulled them downwards.

John was screaming beside him, his hands raised above his head and a grin spreading over his face. Sherlock held on to the harness, his stomach dropping. He clenched his eyes shut as they sped around a bend.

He cracked his eyes open again, the world a blur around him. He couldn't catch his breath, the car speeding along and sending his body crashing to the right as they went around another curve.

Gradually, they slowed to a stop, Sherlock's body still shuddering. The safety harnesses released and John climbed out, grinning.

"Wasn't that great, Sherlock?" he asked, turning around to where he thought his flatmate stood. "Sherlock?"

He saw Sherlock still sitting in the car, head in his hands as he tried to control his breathing. John stepped closer to his friend, putting a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. His face was white and covered with a sheen of sweat.

"You okay?" he asked, feeling the tremors that shook through Sherlock's body.

Sherlock didn't answer, clenching his teeth as a wave of nausea swept over him.

"Come on, lets get you up. You will feel better in a minute," he said. Sherlock nodded once, standing up with shaky legs. John helped his flatmate over to the nearest bench, lowering the man to the seat.

"What are you feeling, Sherlock," John asked as Sherlock pulled his knees to his chest. There was no answer and John became really worried. "Listen, Sherlock, I need to know what is going on so I can help you."

Sherlock looked up at his flatmate, his pale eyes filled with tears.

"I'm dizzy... stomach ache... I think I'm..." Sherlock had to clamp his mouth shut again, his body shaking. John took the hint, rushing to the nearest trash bin and pulling it over.

Sherlock bent over the small, plastic bin and made a horrible retching sound. John rubbed small circles on his friend's back, eyes respectfully averted as the man retched again.

Sherlock's stomach slowly settled, his head still pounding and his body still aching. He looked up gratefully at John before pushing the bin away.

"You could have told me you get motion sickness after roller coasters," John said.

"It seemed irrelevant at the time," Sherlock replied weakly, beginning to stand.

"What are you doing?" John asked incredulously, pushing Sherlock back down onto the bench.

"I have to go find Myra," Sherlock said. "This is definitely the coaster that the children were taken from. The man was around six foot six and wore a blue jacket and brown hiking boots."

" I am not letting you get up until you stop trembling and your headache has gone away... no, don't give me that look, I know you've got one," John snapped. "I will call Myra and tell her whom she is looking for."

To John's surprise, Sherlock just nodded, leaning back against the bench and closing his eyes for a moment.

John pulled out his phone, dialing a number quickly. "Hello? Hi, Myra. It's John. Sherlock says this is the roller coaster. He also managed to figure out that the kidnapper was a six foot six man wearing a blue jacket and hiking boots... No, I don't know how... No problem... We are actually going back to the hotel for a bit now... No everything is fine... Okay bye," John said, pressing the end call button.

He turned towards his flat mate again. John was relieved to see that Sherlock's pale face had gained some color and his trembling had subsided a bit.

"You think you can stand?" John asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes, scoffing.

"Of course," he snapped.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They reached the hotel rather quickly, John sitting on the bed with relief. He glanced over to Sherlock, who had taken a perch on the small sofa in the corner.

"So... you said you had been to an amusement park before?" John asked.

Sherlock nodded, his face blank and devoid of all emotion.

"Did... that happen to you back then?" John asked, feeling awkward. "The motion sickness?"

Sherlock glanced over at his flatmate. "Yes," he said. "But I do not remember it very well. I deleted most of the events."

John studied the man's face for a moment. "You know what..." he said, breaking the silence that had filled the air. "Hold on a sec."

John pulled out his phone again, typing in Myra's number.

"Hey, Myra. It's John again," he said.

"Hey John," Myra responded. Sherlock could just make out her voice on the other end of the line.

"I have a favor to ask," John said. "I know we pretty much solved the case, but could you get us into the amusement park one last time?"

"Why?" Myra asked.

"I want to show Sherlock how to have fun."

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So... this is it... this is the end. *cries* It has been a wonderful, two week long journey! Thank you all for reading and reviewing. **

**Someone requested that I explain how Sherlock knew who the kidnapper was... I wish I could, but I honestly don't know how he knows. He is just a genius and saw a scuff mark on a bench or something XD **

**I just realized that this is the first multi-chapter fanfiction that I have ever completed... XD YAY. **

**I have other stories in progress, so if any of you like Merlin, Harry Potter, or Ranger's Apprentice, I encourage you to check it out. **

**Again, thank you so much for reading. Live long and prosper, my dear reader. Until next time!**

Chapter 5

"I am not going back there," Sherlock snapped, glaring at John as the cab pulled out of the hotel parking lot.

John glanced at the consulting detective, a smile slowly growing on his face. "You have no say in the matter," he responded, his flatmate sending him another death glare.

The rest of the ride was silent, Sherlock pouting with his arms folded over his chest. They arrived at the park and John pulled Sherlock excitedly out of the car, telling the cabbie to keep the change.

Myra was waiting for them a small smile on her face. "We caught the kidnapper and found all of the children," she commented. "It was quite easy actually. Thank you, Sherlock."

Sherlock just raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"He means you're welcome," John said, nudging his friend with an elbow.

"You're... welcome," Sherlock said slowly.

Myra let out a bark of laughter. "You are very much like your brother," she commented before turning to John. "You have one more day free in the park, but your plane leaves at midnight. The car will be back to pick you up at ten. Enjoy yourselves."

John dragged Sherlock through the park excitedly. "Where do you want to go first?" he asked eagerly. "I think we should go back to the Magic Kingdom! I want you to try the teacup ride!"

Sherlock stared at John for a moment. "Won't I experience motion sickness?" he asked as they boarded the ferry.

"Sherlock, five-year-olds can handle that ride. You don't even go very fast." John was practically bouncing with excitement as the boat began to come close to shore.

When the ferry pulled into the dock, John grinned at Sherlock. "Let's go!"

Sherlock followed John slowly, walking with him through the crowd. He led him over to the teacups, placing them in the back of the line.

Sherlock studied the ride skeptically, taking in the oversized, brightly colored, plastic tea cups, resting in their giant saucers. The line moved quickly, and John led Sherlock to a pink teacup with a grin.

Sherlock tried to pull away from John's grip on his shoulder, but he wasn't quick enough. John grinned and closed the little door on the side of the teacup. Sherlock stared at the wheel in the center of the teacup as if it were a foreign object.

"You spin the wheel and the cup spins in the saucer," John commented, seeing the look on Sherlock's face.

Sherlock sat down next to John, his knees pressed uncomfortably to his chest in the tight space. He placed his hands on the wheel, glancing up at his flatmate, who had pulled out a camera.

"Say cheese, Sherlock," John said.

Sherlock reached out a hand to bat the camera out of John's hand, but the ride suddenly spun to life, making Sherlock clutch the wheel to stabilize himself. Sherlock's stomach jerked, but after a moment, he realized they weren't going fast.

"Come on, Sherlock," John said. "Spin the bloody wheel."

"This is stupid, John," Sherlock snapped. John grinned and held up the camera, snapping another picture before stashing the camera away in his pocket.

"This is no fun," John replied. "Think of it as an experiment, Sherlock. You have to experience the stimuli of a normal child in order to fully understand how they function."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and spun the wheel experimentally, the world slowly turning in a circle. John grinned, nodding his head at the consulting detective.

He spun the wheel again, and this time, they whirled around faster. John grabbed the side of the teacup, feeling as if he were going to be thrown from his seat by the force of the spin.

"Woah, Sherlock! Stop! I'm going to fly out!"

Sherlock looked at his flatmate and stopped spinning the wheel, a flash of confusion on his face. "That is not possible. The centrifugal force will hold you inside of the teacup."

"Leave it up to you to make a science lesson out of a kids' ride," John muttered as the ride slowed to a stop. They both got out, making their way through the crowd of children.

John glanced around, wondering what he was going to make Sherlock do next. His eyes landed on a figure in the distance.

"Oh my god," John said. "Sherlock, lets go meet Cinderella!"

"Who is Cinderella?" Sherlock asked and John spun around incredulously.

"WHAT?" he asked. Sherlock glared at him.

"It must not be important, as I seemed to have deleted it. Is she some sort of celebrity?" Sherlock asked and John face-palmed.

"God," he muttered. "Come with me!"

He made his way through the people, walking over to Cinderella. "Hello," John said, pushing Sherlock in front of him. "My friend would love to meet you." He then immediately pulled out his camera, snapping more photos than he could count.

"Hello, handsome sir. My name is Cinderella. What is your name?" she asked, her voice sweet.

"That isn't your name," Sherlock immediately said. John shushed him quickly and Cinderella smiled at him.

"What a sense of humor your friend has," she commented.

"His name is Sherlock," John said. "Oh! Can we take a group shot?" John turned to a woman who was standing next to him. "Would you mind taking a photo of my friend and I?"

The woman nodded yes, and John thanked her, standing next to Cinderella.

"Smile, Sherlock," John said, grinning. Sherlock just rolled his eyes.

"One more, please," John asked. "Smile, Sherlock."

Sherlock finally smiled, and the lady snapped the picture. "Bye, Cinderella," John said, and, after accepting his camera back, he pulled Sherlock away.

"Those are so going on the blog," John said, grinning.

"No!" Sherlock snapped. "I have been humiliated enough as it is! And that woman lied. She isn't Cinderella. And she is definitely not a princess, so I have no idea why she was wearing a crown. She is a 25 year old actor who has always dreamed of being on broadway. Her name is..."

"Sherlock, stop it!" John said.

"Why? I could tell by the..." Sherlock began.

"Just don't. You're ruining the image for some of the children. She is acting like Cinderella to make it more... real," John commented, checking the time on his cell. "It's twelve now. Let's go find lunch and then another ride. Or maybe another princess!"

Sherlock followed John into a nearby food court, John stepping to the back of the line to order. "What do you want? How about we just order a pizza?"

"Fine," Sherlock said, not paying attention to his flatmate at all. He was too busy trying to guess the professions of the occupants in the room.

"One pepperoni pizza... and two chocolate ice cream cones please," John said, pulling out his wallet. He hastily paid for the meal, and they both stood off to the side, waiting as their food was cooked. Twenty minutes later, they were both sitting at a small table in the corner, a large pizza in between them.

John handed a cone to Sherlock. "I don't want it," Sherlock said, trying to hand the cone back.

"No, Sherlock! You have to eat it! Everyone likes ice cream," John said. "I paid good money for that! Emptied out my wallet! The food here is expensive."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and licked the ice cream. Again, John pulled out his camera, snapping a picture of the consulting detective.

Sherlock sighed in annoyance. "Will taking photos of me ever bore you?"

"Nope," John said, grinning. This was turning out to be a great case, he thought as he bit into a slice of pizza.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"We have just enough time to watch the fireworks before we leave," John said excitedly. Sherlock didn't respond, following his flatmate to a bench from where they could watch the clear, black sky fill with sparkling color.

The first firework was a bright, blue explosion of sparks, sending a noise like a gunshot through the warm air. John was again snapping pictures of the sky.

"Sherlock, stand up. I want to take a picture of the fireworks and castle behind you," John said, pushing the consulting detective to his feet. Sherlock stood awkwardly, and John clicked the button.

"You're good," John said, and Sherlock sat back down on the bench. A purple firework lit up the sky, making them both blink.

"A mix of Strontium and Copper compounds," Sherlock said unconsciously. John stared at Sherlock for a moment.

"You know what that is made out of?" he asked and Sherlock nodded.

"It's easy. Every color is produced from different chemical mixtures." As he said this, red sparks filled the air. "The red is produced by Strontium and Lithium salts."

"What about the gold?" John asked.

"That would be iron with carbon, charcoal, or lampblack," Sherlock responded.

Sherlock spent the rest of their remaining hour shooting off chemical names as they watched the colors fill the sky.

John looked down at his watch and stood. "We have to go... the car will be waiting,"he said and Sherlock nodded. As they began walking, the grand finale began, sending loud booms across the park.

Sherlock glanced sideways at his flatmate. Although he would never admit it aloud, he had enjoyed the day traipsing the park.

"Thank you," Sherlock blurted, unsure of how to express how he felt and John resisted the urge to spin around in surprise.

"You're welcome, Sherlock."

They both walked out of the park and the fireworks ended, shrouding the night in darkness once more.

**The End**


End file.
